A Weasley's Wedding
by Lady Cailin
Summary: Harry and Ginny blushed. Ron grinned, and Snape sneered. Not his casual, ‘I loath you’ sort of sneer, but a true sneer, as if he had just discovered something horrible under a rock and it had announced it’s plans to reproduce.  PreHBP


Title: A Weasley's Wedding  
Author: LadyCailin  
Summary: "But they're getting married!" Ron cried in his own defense. Several things happened at once after that. Harry and Ginny blushed. Ron grinned, and Snape sneered. Not his casual, 'I loath you' sort of sneer, but a true sneer, as if he had just discovered something horrible under a rock and it had announced it's plans to reproduce. Pre-HBP

* * *

Hermione received the emergency signal while helping Professor McGonagall transfigure some of the second years failed attempts from that afternoon's classes. She was having a bit of trouble with a pincushion that had never fully made it to anything that resembled a hedgehog. Instead it was exhibiting puffer fish qualities and blowing itself into a prickly round ball whenever frightened. She had just made some progress in that the needles no longer shot out when it puffed up, when the stone on her bracelet turned a bloody red and began to glow. 

For a moment she stood there in panic, staring at the signal she had hoped would never be needed. Then the pincushion inflated itself again and tumbled off the desk with a soft plop, and the world collided back on her, as real as the wand in her hand.

"Is everything alright dear?" Professor McGonagall asked, her attention on the bracelet that glowed like a policeman's siren light at her apprentice's wrist. Hermione shook her head, but threw her shoulders back.

"It's the signal, something's wrong. I have to go," she said firmly, gripping her wand. The Professor paled, one hand going up to cover her mouth as a gasp escaped. Hermione's features settled into that firm determination which had once seen her into that final battle, and she carefully removed the bracelet, turned it to face the wrong way, and placed it back on her wrist. The portkey activated, jerking her out of the calm quiet of the transfigurations classroom. She didn't know where it would take her, but she knew to whom, and to what.

To Ron. He was in danger.

Hermione rolled as she fell, trying to orient herself quickly after having her senses banged about by portkey transportation. She registered three figures in the room before she took in her surroundings. She placed the table between them as she stood with her wand at ready, prepare to curse-

Ginny Weasley.

Hermione blinked, her eyes darting about. There was Ginny, in the arms of Harry, both looking very happy, if somewhat surprised at having the hexing end of a wand shoved in their faces. Ron was grinning like a maniac behind them, one hand gripping the charm she had given both him and Harry so long ago. Hermione glanced over them, and then took a quick look behind her just to be sure. She came to several rapid conclusions.

She was at the Burrow.

There was no danger in sight.

She was going to _kill _Ron.

Her hands went to her hips and she _glared_ at him, which didn't even seem to register. He simply shot an excited glance at Harry and continued to grin at her. The stupid sod.

"Ronald Weasley! I told you and Harry never to use that signal unless there was real danger!" she burst. Her hands were shaking slightly now and she didn't know if she wanted to strangle both her best friends or- no, she definitely wanted to strangle them!

"I told you not to use the charm," Ginny inserted from her place in Harry's arms.

"You won't be mad when you hear _why_ we used it," Ron said confidently, coming up to sling an arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry at least looked sheepish, but had begun to blush slightly at Ron's comment. Hermione's palm itched to slap Ron for his carelessness, and she might have given in to the urge if she hadn't heard a sharp pop from behind her. Still quick from the adrenaline which had raced through her veins moments before, Hermione turned and pointed her wand at the chest of the new arrival.

Who appeared to be Professor Snape, looking a little harried and leveling a wand at her.

She lowered her wand quickly, and he did the same, his black eyes darting around the kitchen of the Burrow. The look of lethal assessment quickly changed to disgust and anger as he took in the decided lack of danger, as well as the forms of her three friends.

"Professor, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked quickly. He drew himself up to his full height at her question and it suddenly struck Hermione how out of place he looked among the soft, homey atmosphere of the Burrow. Professor Snape had always been a creature of hard angles and sharp edges. The cherry gingham curtains gracing the window behind him only served to remind one that he was also creature of shadows who had spent the last twenty-odd years in a dungeon.

"Professor McGonagall informed me of the apparent danger and that you had departed," he said slowly and pinned her with a dark look, "alone."

She blushed slightly at the reprimand and then turned to glare at Ron. This was Ron's fault. If he hadn't set off that charm and made her think he was in danger-

"But they're getting married!" Ron cried in his own defense. Several things happened at once after that. Harry and Ginny blushed. Ron grinned, and Snape sneered. Not his casual, 'I loath you' sort of sneer, but a true sneer, as if he had just discovered something horrible under a rock and it had announced it's plans to reproduce.

"Congratulations!" Hermione cried, running over to steal Ginny from Harry and give her a hug. She gave Harry a smile over the younger girl's shoulder, "It's about time you got up the nerve to ask her Harry Potter."

Hermione had suspected Harry was up to something for months now. Whenever she saw the young man he either looked horribly worried or deliriously happy. Considering he had stopped to look at the engagement ring display in a wizarding jewelry shop the last time they had lunched in Diagon Alley, Hermione had drawn her own conclusions.

"I'm invited to the wedding then?" she teased as she gave Harry a hug. Ginny grinned.

"The whole Order is! Even Snape," Ginny sent her old potions Professor a beautiful smile, despite the fact that he had purposefully removed himself from the gaiety of the event and was now looking decidedly sour after her offer. Hermione sent him a gleeful look from her place between the couple, but quickly defused the situation before the Potions Master could attempt to sabotage this happy moment for the couple.

"Professor Snape and I had better return to Hogwarts, before the news of my sudden departure reaches Dumbledore and they rally the troupes," she said with a smile. Snape took the hint and began inching towards the door. Meanwhile, Hermione took Ron by the ear and twisted sharply, ravaging the happy grin from his face.

"Ah!" he cried out, nearly falling over in his attempt to fallow the hand abusing his ear.

"And _you_," she twisted once more for good measure, "Ronald Weasley! If you _ever_ give a false alarm like that again I will personally see to it that you break out in boils so bad that you will flinch every time you even _think_ about sitting a broom!"

Harry's shy grin was interrupted by a sympathetic wince.

"Congratulations again you two!," Hermione said happily, releasing Ron's wounded ear and following the dark figure of the potions Professor out the door and into the night.

* * *

By the next evening the whole of Hogwarts was buzzing with the news that Harry Potter was getting married. Albus was twinkling in seeming happiness with the world at large, while Minerva was giving Lupin her watery soliloquy that always started with "It seems only yesterday. . ." and gradually degraded into personal memories of the students themselves and a melancholy chat revolving around time and the age which followed it. 

Severus put on his best, most forbidding expression and slipped into his chair at the head table. No, he was not excited by the news. No, he did not want to reminisce about Potter's years at Hogwarts. If they couldn't deduct these startlingly evident facts from prior experience then the general warmth of his demeanor should have clued the twits in by now. However, it was a fact he lamented daily that he found himself surrounded by fools and Gryffindors. Neither of which seemed to take heed of his preferences. Perhaps if Granger were here he might have managed to garner something that resembled intelligent conversation, but the chit's place at the table was strangely empty. This left him to the babbling of Lupin after Minerva turned to commiserate with Poppy.

Lupin seemed to be under the horrifying impression that Severus' having saved his life during the final battle meant that the acidic professor desired his continued existence. Thus, Severus had been forced to suffer the man's company more frequently after his reappointment as the Defense Against the Dark Art's teacher. Often this meant a silence that Severus supposed was intended to be companionable and unobtrusive. Tonight, however, the werewolf's excitement had got the better of him and he had insistently dug out a conversation. It seemed a matter of blind luck that he opened on the very topic Severus had been wondering about since he arrived in the great hall: Miss Granger's absence.

That, or the wolf had noticed that Severus kept glancing at her empty chair and frowning.

"Once Molly heard the good news she decided to throw a little celebration tonight, so Ron popped in to get Hermione. She's at the Burrow now."

Severus barely withheld a sneer at the mention of 'the good news'. He didn't know which was worse news, that Potter was marrying, or that he was marrying a Weasley. A contingent of little Potter brats stomping through his classroom stretched out into his future, all provided by the too fertile womb of a Weasley woman. And twins ran in that family.

Severus gave a dignified shudder and returned to his potatoes.

"Ginny's asked Hermione to be Maid of Honor," Lupin continued as if Severus had expressed an interest in the topic, "it seems she won the coin toss, since Harry wanted Hermione for his side as well."

Severus moved on to the roast beef. Generally he wasn't inclined to partake of Hogwarts roast beef. The house elves tended to overcook the meat, which he suspected was Albus' doing, as he'd never seen the man enjoy red meat in his life. Tonight however, Severus ate his overcooked roast beef in the vain attempt to discourage conversation. Besides, the sauce wasn't as offal as usual.

Undaunted by Severus' complete lack of response, Lupin plunged onward.

"I hear Ron's the Best Man, no surprise there," here the werewolf paused to take a bite of his own roast beef, his face briefly expressing his own opinion of the overcooked meat, and continued with a smile that would have been sly if the man weren't such a Gryffindor.

"They'll be working closely together organizing this whole thing. Maybe this is that second chance everyone's been hoping they'll take."

The goblet Severus had been in the process of lifting to his thin lips paused, and then carefully returned to the table.

"I believe," he said in a soft, firm voice, "Miss Granger had the unmitigated sense to end that relationship several years ago."

Lupin grinned mischievously and took another bite of potato, seemingly thrilled to finally have the attention of his target.

"You never know," he shrugged, "There's something about being close to that big, white dress that makes unapproachable women suddenly rethink their standards."

Minvera, an unapproachable woman herself, made her awareness of the conversation known by giving a little huff and setting her chin in that way that let the careful observer know she'd be slipping into her Scottish brogue in a moment if you weren't careful. Seeing an opportunity to get the wolf in trouble with the old harridan, and himself out of this ludicrous attempt at companionability from one of his old rivals, Severus struck.

"I have more faith in the female of the species then to believe close proximity to a bit of silk and satin could so completely blind any young woman to the faults and flaws of a wizard the likes of Ronald Weasley, " he responded silkily.

Despite his intentions, Lupin looked terribly amused. Minerva appeared torn between defending one of her Gryffindors and seconding Severus' seeming vote of confidence in womankind. She settled for a curt nod to Severus, acknowledging his support and overlooking the almost expected insult accompanying it. She then turned her focus on Lupin once more, intent on instructing him in the intelligence of women, no doubt.

Severus took the opportunity to escape the great hall. He didn't think he could stomach much more of the roast beef, or Lupin's conversation. He also made a habit of leaving on a high note. With that night's discourse surrounding such happy prospects as Potter's marriage and a reconciliation between Miss Granger and another of the infernal Weasley spawn, he felt getting Lupin into the muck with Minerva was about as enjoyable as the evening could get. He was even feeling generally satisfied with the encounter until he happened to notice that both Lupin and Albus were watching him as he exited. After observing the twinkle in both men's eyes Severus couldn't shake the sudden feeling that he'd somehow revealed more then he intended to during the course of that short conversation.

* * *

A little over two weeks later saw a sight that all parties involved had, on some level or another, hoped to never see again. 

Ronald Weasley, in Hogwart's dungeon classrooms.

Admittedly, Ron looked a little nervous when he first peeked his head around the corner of the open doorway. If his hair hadn't been the infamous Weasley red, he might have even succeeding in peeking in without capturing the attention of the exact person he wished to avoid. Not that it would have mattered much anyway, as the person he was looking for also happened to be in the room.

Snape had been in the middle of tending a potion with his usual lethal fluidity when he had suddenly frozen. Concerned that something had gone wrong in the brewing process, Hermione had stopped her own preparations and looked up to find her former Professor giving the doorway a look of such cold menace that she was almost shocked by it. She turned to see who had earned that look, and found she wasn't shocked at all. Hermione suspected she'd given Ronald Weasley that look more then once herself.

Ron gave her a weak smile and after a moment's hesitation, stepped through the doorway and into the room. He gave the room a once over, although she seriously doubted he was feeling at all nostalgic, and then turned to meet Snape's now austerely cold look with a sour one of his own.

"Hello Ron," Hermione said, for lack of anything better to say in the face of this awkward surprise. Hermione could vividly recall that moment two years ago when Snape had made it clear that he was _reluctantly_ allowing her to make use of one of his classrooms for her experiments. (Hermione had always supposed that his agreement had something to do with the Headmaster.) There had been a long list of conditions to that arrangement. One of them, if she wasn't mistaken, was that Ron and Harry wouldn't be 'mucking about' in his dungeons. Hermione hadn't considered this an issue at the time. When Ron and Harry did make the time to come and visit her they generally limited themselves to the Great Hall, the Gryffindor common rooms, and the Quidditch Pitch. Not once had either of them expressed an interest in seeing her experiments, or in visiting the dungeons. In fact, she was quite sure that if they had found out said experiments were housed in the dungeons, it would have ended whatever fleeting curiosity, or utter boredom, which had inspired their interest in her work.

She glanced back at Snape and he immediately shot her a look that she correctly interpreted as: 'Get him out of here, now.' Thus, Hermione found herself dragging Ron along with her out into the hallway and half closing the door. With more then five cauldrons producing various fumes, she wasn't about to close it all the way, even for the sake of privacy.

"Hey 'Mione," Ron finally returned her greeting now that he wasn't focused on a glaring contest, "whatcha doin' down here in the dungeons with Snape? I thought you were supposed to be McGonnigall's apprentice."

He followed this by a suspicious look, as if he suspected Snape of using memory charms and Imperio to steal her as an apprentice. Hermione felt it was rather civil of her to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"It's my day off," she said simply, shooting a glance at the door. She was more then a little concerned with leaving her cauldron there. Although he had offered, rather ungraciously, to help her with her experiments, Snape couldn't be counted on to watch her own portion of the work. He would instead leave it to spoil and then scold her for neglecting it in favor or chitchat with Ron.

"You're spending your day off with Snape?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her friend, giving him a sharp poke in the chest for his rude tone of voice. Had she implied he was balmy when he began to spend so much time with Ludo Bagman and the rest of those mad hatters in the Department of Magical Games and Sports? Then she glanced back at the door again. She really needed to get back to that cauldron. . .

"Professor Snape is helping me explore a theory I have on combining charms and potions. You see I was doing some arthimatic equations in relation to my transfiguration work one day and I realized that-"

"That's great 'Mione," Ron interrupted, sensing a long explanation was marching towards his short attention span, "but listen, I've really got to talk to you about this wedding thing."

"Oh!" Hermione burst, her own attention finally on the redhead before her, "Of course, just let me get my notes."

With that, she turned and disappeared through the door once more. Ron was left frowning at the empty hallway.

"Notes?"

* * *

Another two weeks passed before The Wedding began to further interfere with Severus' life. Thankfully, there had not been another run in with Weasley in that time. The initial tide of gaiety following the news of the wedding had settled itself to a level where he was now capable of dining with the other members of the staff without acquiring a bad case of indigestion. However, he was as yet unable to pick up the Daily Prophet without finding some article or another that did not refer to "The Wedding of the Century". He had abandoned the Prophet earlier in the evening in favor of grading papers. 

Currently, he was seated behind the desk in his office, trying to make sense out of the illegible scratchiness of a first year who had obviously never handled a quill before in his life. He spent nearly five minutes, purely out of professionalism, trying to decipher the script before he gave the student a sharp D accompanied by a scathing note regarding his lack of intelligence, overall ability, and writing skills. He turned to the next paper and immediately scratched out another lethal D for Prudence Featherworth, who appeared to have written several inches of parchment in large script without coming close to mentioning the given topic. The second to last paragraph centered entirely on unicorns. Even if the assignment had been unicorns, which it wasn't, the paper would have been made more informative by toddler's badly executed drawing then by the given paragraph.

Severus made sure to mention that fact on her paper.

"Lions," he sneered as he dipped his quill once more in the bloody ink, "roaring through the forests of knowledge."

"Another batch of dunderheads?" a laughing voice inquired. Severus shot a sharp glance at Miss Granger where she leaned against the door to his office. He disliked being snuck up on, and felt mildly irritated that it had happened. Just five years ago no one would have been able to enter his office without his knowledge. He must be getting old. That thought made his scowl worse, and she chuckled again.

"They can't be that bad. At least one of them must have learned something this year," she teased as she came forward and began replacing ingredients in the storage cupboard beside his desk. He watched her bend to the task, her face illuminated by the candle beside his papers. Stands of hair flew out in odd places in an attempt to break free from the valiant little clip she had used to tie back her bushy brown locks. Severus wondered briefly if those were circles under her eyes, or if it was merely shadows from the candle. Then he caught the thought, realized how ridiculous it was, and returned to the topic at hand.

"I can force the little ankle-biters to remember the facts I drill into their empty heads, but I cannot force them to learn. Learning is not compulsory," he grimaced as he turned back to the next paper on his stack. "Neither, however, is survival."

This earned him another soft laugh, and it was a pleasant silence that fell over the room after that, broken only by the soft click of glass as Hermione rearranged the cabinets. She began pulling out and checking the various ingredients, setting aside those that need to be replaced. Watching her, he realized suddenly that this was the first time he had seen her since breakfast. The lab had been strangely empty when he had gone to check on his own portion of the work, and where ever she had eaten her meals today, it had not been the Great Hall. He scowled again, remembering how chatty Lupin had been at dinner.

"I understand you received a visit from another of Hogwart's great minds today," he sneered in his usual manor.

"Professor, I know you don't like Ron-," she began. He waved her silent with one pale hand and a raised eyebrow.

"You are mistaken Miss Granger. I do not _dislike_ Mr. Weasley. I consider him an unpleasant natural phenomenon," he leaned forward and glanced at the paper at the top of the stack once more before pushing them away in disgust. "The eyes are open, the mouth moves, but the brain has long since expired."

"Ron is not stupid," she admonished and sent him a frown over her shoulder, "he's just well versed in different areas then you or I."

To this he gave her the cold look which had sent his students into heart-pounding panic for the last two decades. It didn't appear to have the slightest effect on her.

"If you consider broomsticks and loose women to be areas of study, then I have been truly mistaken in my opinion of your own intellect Miss Granger."

He thought he could detect a faint blush around her cheeks before she turned back to her task, but whether it was from his assessment of Weasley or the backhanded compliment he had just paid her, he couldn't tell. She cleared her throat once as she continued to check ingredients. Half of them she never used, and would be of no use to her current project, but she always checked the whole cupboard once she had begun.

"Ron happens to be an accomplished chess player," she pointed out in her no-nonsense tone. "Not every wizard has a mind for strategy like that."

He sneered. Which had no effect, as she couldn't see it, but which made him feel better nonetheless.

"A gift for strategy when it is placed before you in game does not a strategic mind make. If he could apply that same skill to life and perhaps _think_ a step or two ahead of the words flying out of his mouth, then I might be more inclined to appreciate the dubious intellect of _Ronald Weasley_."

She shot him amused look over her shoulder as she replaced the ashwinder skins in the cupboard.

"If he could do that he would have been in Slytherin, not Gryffindor," she teased.

"Precisely," he spat.

She smiled indulgently and turned back to her work.

"Still, there is something to be said for honest conversation," she mused as she began to collect the bottles which would need to be replaced on the next trip to Diagon Alley. He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.

"You did not appear to be of that opinion during Weasley's last visit," he reminded her. He knew she blushed this time, and she almost dropped several of the old ingredient bottles. He took a hand full of them from her for safety's sake. He didn't want glass all over his office floor.

"You heard about that?" she asked in embarrassed horror.

"With the speed at which gossip travels in this castle I should not be surprised if even Professor Binns knew about it by dinner this evening," he said in disgust as he set the jars down on his desk. Lupin had been only too happy to inform Severus of the current on-dit. Word had it that the infamous and passionate lover's spats which had marked their relationship had renewed. It was also being said that Weasley had asked her out again, although an entire evening spent at the head table had not been enough to divulge the answer she had given. Not that he cared. He just didn't think he could work with her any longer if Weasley was going to be popping in every other minute.

"He told me I need to get out more, that I'm turning into a reclusive spinster, "she admitted with a tired sigh. Severus' lips pulled back in a disgusted grimace, but he refrained from pointing out how entirely justified his previous remarks regarding Weasley's intelligence were.

"It's nothing I haven't heard before, "she continued in a slightly dejected, almost wistful tone, "My mother's even started hinting about Grandchildren."

Considering that she was a witch of no more then twenty five, Severus found this entirely ridiculous. Unfortunately, he couldn't help remembering something Lupin had said. Something about women and wedding dresses. This wedding was obviously affecting her much more then he had realized. Merlin forbid she be caught up in the excitement and come out of it to find herself bound for a lifetime to some moronic red haired-

"Your mother is obviously unfamiliar with the normal life span of a wizard. You have plenty of time at your disposal before you must begin to worry about providing her with Grandchildren," he reminded her.

"I know, "she told him with a nod as she began to pick up the bottles again. "It's this wedding business. I suppose I just didn't notice I'd been neglecting that part of my life until _everyone_ began pointing it out."

She smiled at him one last time as she left the room, looking sad and not just a bit tired. The sound of gently clinking bottles receding down the corridor until he was alone with the silence of his office. He had a sudden, sickening vision of Hermione residing over a brood of a dozen red-haired brats, forced to live in a world where the most intellectually stimulating conversation was provided by Ludo Bagman. . .

Searching for something to take his mind from this disturbing thought, he reached for the papers on his desk, prepared to continue his grading until he felt more himself. Severus glanced down at the stack and grimaced, remembering why he had put the papers aside in the first place.

Simon Driddle.

Severus had always wondered where the other half of Longbottom's brain was kept; until he looked up to find Driddle melting his cauldron that first class.

* * *

"If I were wrong then I'd gladly say I'm sorry, but I'm not wrong," Ron insisted. Although, the words were a great deal less insistent or coherent then intended, due to the large portion of eggs and sausage currently residing in his mouth. With more then a decade of experience conversing with Ron at meals under his belt, Harry understood every word. 

"Doesn't matter really," Harry admitted with a shrug as Mrs. Weasley piled a second helping of pancakes on his plate, "Hermione's forgiven you, I think"

"For what?" Ginny asked with a yawn as she sat down on Harry's other side, dropping a kiss on his cheek after she managed to close her mouth. Harry sent her the smile he had been wearing since she had agreed to marry him, which he was sure was a very silly smile indeed, and continued eating his eggs.

"Look, all I said was-", Ron began heatedly, already having warmed to his subject the last three times he'd related the tale this morning.

"Oh," Ginny waved a dismissive hand, "one of _those_."

Harry ducked his head and tried not to choke on his eggs after catching the look Ron sent Ginny for that one. After Ginny's graduation the England based Weasley's had taken to gathering every Saturday morning for a family breakfast. Harry had been invited to such events long before he'd begun dating Ginny. Fred and George arrived a bit later then usual that morning, apparating in just as Ron began to explain the origins of his most recent fight with Hermione.

"Trouble in paradise Ronniekins?", George asked with a grin as he and Fred settled into their seats and Mrs. Weasley began fussing over them as usual.

"All I said was-", Ron began again.

"Oh, one of _those_ was it?" Fred laughed as he began to pile eggs, sausages and pancakes onto his plate. Ron and Hermione's tiffs were the stuff of legends in the Weasley household, and ready fodder for teasing Ron.

"You know," Ron said somewhat indignantly, "it isn't _always_ my fault."

"Course not," George agreed readily. "Sometimes it's entirely Hermione's fault."

"It's malicious the way she forces you to eat your foot every time she enters a room," Fred said with a sympathetic nod

"_She_ broke up with _me_," Ron reminded them, for once without food coming out the corners of his mouth.

"Because of your inability to communicate and connect outside of the physical," George repeated in a fair imitation of Hermione's best 'teacher' voice.

"Good job with the counter argument on that one," Fred added with a grin.

"Bloody brilliant move, trying to kiss her in the middle of her huff," George winked.

"Her lips were saying 'no'," Fred batted his eyelashes at Ron playfully.

"But her eyes were saying 'read my lips'," George added, nudging Fred with his elbow.

"Oh," Ron ground out, taking a bite of sausage, "and I suppose that time Angelina screamed at you to be serious for once in your life just before she began sprouting daisies all over was a _strategic_ move to win her eternal love."

George burst out laughing, earning a shove from his twin.

"How was I to know she'd blow up just then? I'd given her that Delaying Daisy Drop a full hour before!" Fred defended himself with a red face. George continued snickering into his eggs.

"Ron had a point if you ask me," Mrs. Weasley spoke up from her spot at the stove. "I think it's a shame. Hermione is wasting away in that castle."

"Wasting away," she repeated, waving her spatula for emphasis.

"You know," Harry began, "I don't think Hermione's really the type who needs a bloke in her life to be happy. She's always been more of an independent-"

Ginny ground down on his foot so sharply his toes began to throb.

"Harry darling?" she asked sweetly.

"Yeah?" Harry croaked out around the eggs he was choking on.

"Shut up," she advised just as sweetly.

Although it took him a moment to catch on, Harry soon realized he'd been saved from a morning on Mrs. Weasley's bad side. Apparently the issue of Hermione's single status was one of great concern to her. She spent the next hour trying to come up with different young men she knew that Hermione might like to be introduced to. None of them sounded like Hermione's type to Harry and Ron, but neither of them had any suggestions to add to the pool. Ron worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports for the moment, and they both knew the men there would interest Hermione about as much as a relationship with a flobberworm. Harry hesitated to introduce Hermione to any of the Auror's he worked with, if only because he knew half of them were more then a little off their rockers. The Unspeakable's weren't even worth mentioning. Fred and George were no help, spending the better part of the hour suggesting people that even Mrs. Weasley found unsuitable.

* * *

They finished breakfast eventually, and Ron went off to collect Hermione. He hadn't wanted to collect Hermione, because he was fairly sure he'd have to apologize to do it. However, he'd recognized years ago that he was no match for his mother, and he'd popped off to get Hermione for the shopping trip today. 

Unfortunately, he ran into Snape almost immediately upon entering Hogwarts. In retrospect, he should have realized at breakfast that today wasn't going to be his day. As it was, it took him a bit longer then that.

"I don't believe Miss Granger is up to any more of your _charming_ visits today Mr. Weasley," the older man said coldly. Ron just glared, feeling slightly sheepish that even _Snape_ knew about the fight, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Well I think I know Hermione a lot better then you do," he returned, about to walk around his old Professor and begin his search with the Library.

"Arrogance and stupidity all in the same package," Snape bit out derisively. "How efficient of you Mr. Weasley."

Ron wheeled around on his heel, his fists coming out of his pockets as his temper sparked. Snape turned towards him with an almost pleased look in his beady black eyes.

"Listen you overgrown-"

"Ron!" a surprised voice called behind him. Ron froze, and Snape drew back, his expression becoming shuttered.

"Ron," Hermione repeated as she hurried up to them, shooting a concerned glance between the two men. "What are you doing here?"

"Er, it's Saturday," he reminded her, somewhat confused that Hermione wouldn't remember.

"Yes," she agreed in equal confusion. Then her eyes lit up and her hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh! The shopping trip! The Brides Maid's dresses!" she cried, grabbing his hand and dragging him off down the corridor. Ron couldn't help the smug smile on his face when they passed Snape.

They stopped outside Hermione's room where she ran inside to change her robes and gather about four pounds of fabric swatches for Ron to carry. Apparently these were just the ones Ginny had _liked_. Meanwhile, Ron worried about how he was going to apologize to his best friend for being such a git the other day. She seemed to have remembered she was angry with him by the time they left her room, and the walk to the apparation point was coldly silent. Finally, when they had reached the grove where it was safe to apparate on Hogwart's grounds, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Hermione?" Ron said hesitantly. "You know. . .er. . .you know I just want you to be happy, right?"

Mercifully, the stiffness in her back relaxed, and she sent him a forgiving smile.

"I know Ron."

And really, that was all that needed to be said.

* * *

Hermione made a strangled sound of excitement that captured the attention of their group. Noticing that Harry was giving her a curious look she clutched the book closer to her and smiled beautifully as she explained, 

"This is a first edition of _The Defense of the Dark Magiks_! Professor Snape would love this!"

Ron's red head snapped up at this, his attention moving so quickly from _Handles and Hazards: The Latest Broom Charms_ to Hermione and the book in her hands that it looked a little painful to even the casual observer.

"You're buying it for _him_?!" he asked in horror as Hermione made her way towards the counter. Hermione gave him a good frown that should have been a warning to shut up, but flew right over the young man's head. Considering that she had only just forgiven him this morning, Harry felt that was rather thick of his friend.

"It is his birthday right before the wedding. This would be a perfect present," she explained stiffly, clutching the book a little tighter as if she were afraid he might take it from her. Ron's hands waved a bit at his sides, as if he was searching for a way to explain the magnitude of her error to her. Luckily, Ginny stepped it.

"Professor Snape has a birthday?" she asked as she took a place besides Hermione in line.

"Well of course he does. What did you think?" Hermione asked with a slight frown. Ginny smiled, quite beautifully in Harry's opinion, and scrunched up her nose.

"I always just pictured him as having sprung fully grown from the bottom of the lake or something," she explained, earning chuckles all around, except for Hermione, who only gave a little half smile, and Luna Lovegood, who looked serious.

"Like a flatwalk," Luna confirmed, nodding to Ginny in a seemingly mutual understanding.

Ron, who had been about to repeat his earlier question, shot Luna a confused glance. He looked for all the world as if he wanted to ask what exactly a flatwalk was, but was torn between doing so and allowing the fact that Hermione was buying Professor Snape a present pass unnoticed by the conversation. Harry, thankfully, clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder and cut him off before he could say anything to bring the conversation to either of these disastrous turns.

"I think," Harry explained soothingly, "Ron's just a bit surprised you'd buy Snape a birthday present."

Hermione's forehead scrunched up, as if she couldn't understand why it was so utterly confusing, and alarming, that Hermione Granger should buy Professor Severus Snape a birthday present.

"Well of course I would. I've been working with him in my free time for the last year and a half," she reminded them all a little sharply. Ginny, who had been leafing through one of her tombs on wizarding wedding traditions, looked up with a curious gleam in her eye.

"That long?" she asked, a little too casually. Hermione merely nodded and stepped up to pay for the controversial present.

Harry felt a chill run up his spine.

He tried to tell himself it was nothing, that there was no way on earth that Ginny could be thinking what he thought she was thinking. He told himself it wasn't possible as he watched his fiancée purchase her books. He repeated it as they exited the store and he walked beside her along the shop fronts of Diagon Alley. He had almost convinced himself by the time they made it to the Apothecary one street down from Lavender's dress shop. Hermione went inside to place an order for delivery on some ingredients she needed, and the rest of them milled about outside, as it would only take a minute.

"What do you think of Snape?" Ginny asked, again in a tone that struck Harry as suspiciously casual. It only made him more unsettled that she was examining ravens livers as she spoke, because he knew Ginny had absolutely no interest or need for ravens livers.

"I suppose," he began hesitantly, wary of some nefariously hidden pitfall in this line of questioning, "I didn't think that was a question that had to be asked."

"No, _no_," Ginny said with a huff, throwing down the liver she had been examining for flaws and turning on their small group with a smile that Harry couldn't find quite as beautiful as the last , "I mean _Hermione_ and _Snape_. What do you think?"

Harry couldn't have been more horrified if she'd suggested Hermione shack up with Hagrid. _It was the craziest idea he had ever heard!_ That was his first thought. His second was to remind himself that he could absolutely _not_ let that thought fall out of his mouth, or he might find himself lacking a bride for his upcoming wedding. Ron, who had been strangely silent until this point, jumped in to sacrifice himself by eating his own foot, so Harry wouldn't be obliged to.

"I think I'm leaning towards '_Ginny, you mad cow_'," Ron burst, his eyes bugging out in an attempt by his body to properly express the horror and disgust he was experiencing.

"They are similar," Luna allowed in her far-off voice, as if Ron hadn't spoken. Ginny latched on to this, ignoring her brother and sending her bride's maid a brilliant smile for agreeing with her. It was a reprieve which Ron promptly ruined by opening his mouth again.

"Right, about as similar as two completely dissimilar things shoved into a pod," he snorted, sending Luna a look. He seemed to have relaxed. The fact that Loony Luna had agreed with Ginny having solidified the whole 'mad cow' aspect of things in his mind.

"Hermione likes books, Snape likes books," Ginny continued, speaking to Luna now, "They're both very much the intellectual type."

"He looks like Viktor Krum," Luna added, looking even more far off then usual for a moment.

Ron sputtered ineffectually and began waving his arms, a sure sign that as soon as he found the words, he'd begin shoving his foot even further down his throat, and may even go for the other leg. Harry, from long practice born of the realization that he wouldn't ever get anything done if he focused on the bad things and began to brood, tried to think of something positive about this situation.

His fiancee was suggesting a romantic attachment between his best friend and one of his less nefarious enemies. Hermione was buying gifts for Snape. Considering Hermione had never been in the habit of buying presents for the people with whom she shared a mutual distaste, it was a safe bet that she at least friendly, Harry shuddered slightly, with Professor Snape. Also, Ron seemed to have forgotten the cardinal rule of being the Best Man. The duties were few, but important. Ron had to plan the Ladd's Night Out. Ron had to make sure Harry and all his groomsmen made it to the wedding. But more importantly, Ron had to _Not Piss Off The Bride_.

So. . .positive thoughts?

Well, Ginny seemed to be ignoring Ron for the most part. . .and at least Hermione wasn't there. Yes, that was definitely a plus. Hermione's arrival could only herald one of two disastrous results. On the one hand, she could denounce the idea, which would be a great relief to Harry, and a minor disappointment to Ginny. However, Hermione would invariably end up defending Snape anyway, and Ron would take exception to it. The argument would degrade itself until Ron said something unimaginably thoughtless and the two ended up not speaking to one another for a good month or two, which could make planning the wedding rather difficult. On the other hand, Hermione might be given ideas by Ginny's ideas. Or worse yet, she might have already had the same thoughts, and would precede to confess some heretofore unseen attraction for Professor Snape. That thought made Harry feel a bit queasy, so he abandoned it and settled for being thankful Hermione wasn't there.

He did keep an eye on the Apothecary door. Just in case.

"I'm sure there must be _something_ nice about him, for Hermione to spend so much time with him," Ginny continued, now turned completely towards Luna and away from Ron. Ron was still valiantly trying to argue the point, but was being soundly ignored by the two women.

"Right, beneath that cold exterior beats a heart of pure stone," he said derisively, getting ready to follow the two as they distanced themselves from the men. Harry quickly put a stop to that, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder and giving him a lighthearted grin.

"Ron," he said companionably, "you tried to make a point, and lost."

"I haven't lost anything," Ron grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring after his sister. Harry just laughed.

"That's right, because to loose an argument you'd have to be having one. They're ignoring you. You loose by default."

"I know I'm not supposed to be saying this, what with her being my sister, and me being Best Man- but are you sure about that one Harry?" He jerked his head towards where Ginny and Luna stood not far off. "There's still time to make a run. I could even-"

"Ronald Weasley! I _can_ hear you!" Ginny shouted, sending him a glare that should have turned him crispy around the edges. Luna, as always, looked like a picture of serenity.

"You'd never know it!" Ron shouted back.

"_Snape_," Ron then muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, "don't they want her to be happy?"

Just then, Hermione exited the Apothecary. All conversations concerning her love life promptly ended, although Harry knew that wouldn't be for long. At first everyone had just asked Hermione when she was planning to find a nice young man of her own. Then they had begun trying to find her a nice young man of her own. Considering they were now resorting to hypothetical relationships with Snape, Harry didn't want to think what the next step in this horrific process could be.

Luckily for Harry, he and he groomsmen were being banished to a Wizarding dress robes shop further down the street, so he didn't get to find out.

* * *

Severus was not in a good mood. 

For four months now Ronald Weasley had been popping in and of his life, making it a living hell. His cupboards were in disarray. Half his ingredients had gone bad while he wasn't looking. Not to mention that he hadn't had a decent conversation, which now simply applied to any conversation that did not involve The Wedding or the romantic prospects of Ronald Weasley, in months. He hadn't seen Hermione for almost as long. He was fairly sure she had begun working at night, too busy during the day to attend to her experiments then. Which would explain the dark circles under her eyes. He did not believe, as Lupin had suggested, that they were caused by any late nights with Weasley.

Throughout these daily trials he had been comforted only by the fact that he wouldn't be attending the Wedding. True, he had been invited, but that by no means obliged him to go. He could simply entomb himself in the dungeons until the whole mess blew over. When he emerged Weasley would have no further excuses to drop by the school. Hermione would return to the laboratory, and he would only be forced to sit through a few weeks discussion on how _lovely_ the Wedding had been.

And now _this_.

The Wedding was to be at Hogwarts. His summer had been effectively ruined, and he felt entirely justified in blaming Potter, the entire Weasley clan, _and_ Albus Dumbledore.

"This is the Headmaster's doing," Severus hissed in anger, "I'm sure of it."

"They say God works in mysterious ways," Minerva informed him soothingly as she pored him another glass of fire whiskey.

"Perhaps," Severus conceded darkly as he sipped his glass, "but he is a second rate con man compared to Albus Dumbledore."

"Your looking at this the wrong way Severus," Minerva told him as she sat back in her chair before the fire. Although he wouldn't have admitted it under threat of torture, Severus has always preferred Minerva's private rooms to those he had been given as Head of Slytherin House. They were warm and exuded a cozy atmosphere that was perfect for the occasional glass of fire whiskey when he was in need of one.

"Pray tell, _how_?" he sneered. Minerva simply gave him a sharp look over the rim of her glasses.

"This is the perfect opportunity to tell Miss Granger how you feel about her."

He choked on his whiskey.

"Don't you dare tell me I'm imagining things Severus Snape," she told him tightly. "I've known you since you were all knees and elbows in a cloak too big."

"I assure you-," was all he was able to wheeze out through the fire engulfing his lungs.

"You and Hermione have got along perfectly well as you were for the past four years," she conceded, "but no woman can be expected to wait forever."

"Soon Hermione's apprenticeship will be over and she'll be leaving Hogwarts. If you don't tell her how you feel soon then she's going to get lonely and start looking elsewhere."

"Good," he grunted contrarily.

"Oh," Minerva nodded with a coldly knowing look in her eyes, "so you want to see her go off and marry some wizard with half the brains it will take to challenge her and half the maturity it will take to understand her?"

"I didn't expect things to go on as they had forever," Severus grumbled into his drink. Minerva remained silent, giving him a look that suggested he was a cad who'd been playing with her favorite Gryffindor's heart for the past four years.

"She's nearly twenty years my junior," he argued. Unfortunately, Minerva wasn't fooled. She'd spent the better part of her seventy years with Slytherins trying to lie to her.

"Severus Snape, if you tell me you have wasted these last years because you weren't sure how she felt about you, I will hex you."

Severus felt it prudent to drink his whiskey and remain silent at that point.

Minerva set down her glass sharply and gave him a piercing look.

"Go to the wedding, spend time with her. Give her some idea that you at least like her. If she doesn't tell you how she feels the she had no right to be sorted into Gryffindor."

"Are you _suggesting_," Severus grimaced, "that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear some affirmation of affection?"

"And why not?" Minerva asked stiffly, "Women have been doing it for centuries."

* * *

"_Cor_!," George exclaimed, covering his nose with his sleeve, "It smells like a fish died." 

"And then all the other fish sent flowers," Fred added, hesitating at the portrait whole of the kitchen.

"Think we could bottle it?" George asked.

"Fred! George!" Molly Weasley screeched upon seeing her twin boys, "What are you doing down here, you should be getting ready!"

The House Elves around her hurried back and forth, some arranging flowers, other preparing what would later be the salmon served at the wedding. Molly stood like a general in the middle of the chaos, randomly correct one and issuing orders to another. Her red hair was flying every which way, and it was clear she hadn't slept last night. There were dark circles under her eyes when she again turned on the twins.

"Go on. I don't want any trouble from you two on Ginny's special day," she told them as she shoved them out the portrait whole.

Several minutes later, they were outside the bride's room when a piercing scream of frustration ripped the air.

Hermione went shooting by in her maid of honor dress, satin ruffling behind her and only half her hair done. The rest of the bride's maids followed in varying states of readiness, Luna Lovegood the only one to give the twins a serene smile as she passed them.

"Gin's just stressed," Fred mused.

"She needs a little love," George agreed with a grin.

"And nothing says I love you like I really great practical joke."

"I'm stuck!" Ginny cried in frustration, trying to bend in such a way as to either finish zipping the dress, or find a way to unzip it.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked in confusion, pushing the half of her hair not confined in an elaborate updo behind her ear. Ginny froze, sending her friend a put out look over her shoulder.

"I'm stuck. Are you having trouble with 'I'm' or 'stuck'?" she asked.

Hermione frowned and began to fiddle with the zipper, slapping away the hands that tried to help. Finally, she set Ginny a suspicious look through the mirror.

"Ginny, did you take one of those new engorgment potions?" she asked. Ginny immediately blushed, looking sheepish.

"I might have done," she mumbled.

"Well no wonder the dress doesn't fit!" Hermione huffed. "You can't go augmenting your assets after the final fitting Ginny!"

"I just wanted to be voluptuous and seductive for my wedding night," Ginny cried, trying once more to reach around and fiddle with the zipper at her back. "Is that too much to ask?"

"According to your dress, yes it is. Now stay here, I've got to go ask Professor Snape to brew a disengorging potion. He should be down in his office-"

"You can't tell _Snape_!" Ginny hissed in horror. But Hermione was already half way into the hallway. She ran full force into Fred, who only just caught her before she could trip all over her dress and ruin it in her hurry.

"Whatcha doin' Hermione?" he asked good-naturedly.

"What does it look like?" Hermione snapped, the other half of her hair escaping the hairdresser's attempt at order.

"Well, looks like you've decided to go 'round the bend," Fred observed.

"Godspeed," George added from behind him," and have you seen Ron and Harry?"

Hermione's eyes widened in panic. Where in the world would Harry and Ron disappear to just two hours before the wedding?!

"Just a moment," Ginny called from inside the room. "Fred, George, could I talk to you a minute?"

Ginny smiled at them both as she stepped out into the hall, looking very serene and beautiful, despite the fact that her dress still wasn't properly zipped and she had to have heard that bit about Harry and Ron. She was still straightening her hair and placing pins in everywhere when she came out into the hallway.

"You two have always been very good brothers to me," Ginny began. "You showed me how to get around mom, made me laugh, and taught me how to survive getting caught."

Fred and George turned pink, looking slightly sheepish at the attention, and looking downright embarrassed when Ginny came up and gave them a group hug in her dress. She patted them both on the back lovingly, and Hermione thought she saw Flora, the most insipid of Ginny's bride's maids, pat tears from her eyes.

"But I want you to believe me when I say that eternity in the company of the Dark Lord and all his hellish instruments of torture will be a _picnic_ compared to five minutes with me and this hair pin if you muck up my wedding day."

Both brothers stiffened, and Ginny pulled back with that same serene smile plastered to her face.

"So I want you to tell me now if you have any little surprises set up."

"No, no, no," Fred assured her with a winning smile

Ginny gave a low sound, like a growl.

"Or if we're being honest, yes," George gulped, taking a step behind Hermione.

"Go. Fix. It."

"Right," Fred nodded.

"Will do," George promised, backing towards the door.

"On our way."

And with that, they bolted.

Hermione shook her head and turned the corner to be promptly attacked by the hair dresser they had hired for this morning. In the end Ron and Harry found Hermione on her way to the dungeons to discuss a disengourging potion with Snape. The hairdresser was still trailed her, waving her wand and trying in vain to bring some sort of order to her hair.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted upon seeing her. "We've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Ron, I'm in the middle of fifteen things," Hermione slapped at the hand trying to flatten a particularly stubborn lock of hair, "all of them annoying, so go away."

"We'll be quick Hermione," Harry assured her, stepping out of Merlin knows where. Hermione suspected the invisibility cloak.

"We just wanted to. . .," here Ron wandered off, looking to Harry for help. Meanwhile the hairdresser continued tugging at the back of her head, obviously having decided ripping her hair out would solve the problem.

"Well, Ron and I wanted to say. . .," Harry tried. They both looked a little green for a moment, and Hermione began walking towards the dungeons again. Both followed her, and appeared to be having some sort of discussion that involved shoving, if she guessed right from the sounds. Finally, Ron stepped up and swallowed heavily, placing himself in front of her.

"We've heard about what happened at the Hen night and-," Hermione froze, and the hair dresser sighed in relief behind her.

"Who talked?" she ground out, blushing slightly. Both young men looked sheepish, but plowed onward.

"We wanted to let you know that we support you," Harry said finally, still looking a little green and confused.

"We think you're balmy, but we support you," Ron agreed.

Hermione throat suddenly felt tight, and she lunged forward to pull them both into a hug.

"Thank you Harry, Ron," she whispered.

"Absolutely nutters," Ron said, trying to ignore the fact that the hairdresser was now attempting to work around this little display of friendship, "but we support you."

Hermione pulled back, sniffed once, and then send him a glare.

"Ron Weasley, I have six words for you: Last night. Broom closet. Luna Lovegood."

The tips of Ron's ears turned red, and Harry shot Ron a questioning look.

* * *

Seamus ran down the isle of the great hall when he spotted Harry and Ron sneaking in the side door. 

"There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you two!" he cried as he came towards them, "was it the nerves?"

"No, I'm fine," Harry said with a shrug and a grin, "actually, I feel great."

Seamus promptly ignored him, catching sight of Fred and George entering the hall.

"Fred! George! Harry's having an attack of the nerves, I think he could use a bit of cheering up."

"She's the Devil, that one," Fred confided with a jerked nod back towards where they were hiding Ginny before the ceremony.

"Run fast, run far Harry," George advised as he helped the last of the Weasley great-aunts take her seat.

"Alright boys," Remus broke into the silence following that comment with a grin, "it's time to get to your places."

Harry was promptly ushered to his place, and only just had time to notice how nice the great hall looked before the music started up. Ron fidgeted beside him, and promptly turned red when Luna Lovegood winked at him as she preceded to her own place. He'd have to remember to ask Hermione what that was about, he thought distantly. Hermione actually looked quite nice, that hairdresser had known what she was doing, he thought.

Then Ginny walked down the isle, and he stopped thinking.

* * *

Hermione watched the first dance with a kind of tired satisfaction that came after months of hard work. The wedding had gone off without a hitch, aside from that one moment during the service where Harry had said his 'I do's much too soon. 

The bridal shower had been well organized and warm. The Hen party had been brilliant, and mercifully, no one had got sick either that night or the next day. Although Hermione hadn't been able to find Professor Snape, she'd managed to find a supply of disengourging potion and the dress had finally been zipped. The Wedding was beautiful, with the great hall decked out in all the glory of autumn. Harry was happy, Ginny was glowing. It was over, she thought with a relieve sigh.

"You look lovely Hermione," Minerva's voice broke into her thoughts. Hermione smiled and thanked her.

"Doesn't Hermione look lovely Severus?" the older woman asked in leading tones. Hermione turned to find Professor Snape standing behind her in green and black set of dress robes. He sent Minerva a dark look, but nodded in hesitant agreement. Hermione heard Minerva give a huff behind her, and then the older woman mumbled something about Albus, and turned on her heel to disappear into the crowd.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," she admitted with a smile.

"Considering the venue, I had little choice," he said curtly, his eyes skimming over the dancing couples in that hawkish way. Hermione made a sound of agreement and they lapsed into silence. She could feel the tension coming off him, and wondered what had caused it.

"Did you get the book I sent you?" Hermione asked, suddenly remembering the birthday present she had sent earlier the day before. He nodded once, but didn't continue the subject, still watching the dancers.

"Professor Snape?" she tried again.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Do you dance?"

"Yes," he said shortly, his entire body tense now. Hermione felt like huffing and turning away herself at that point.

"Would you like to?" she asked, sure she couldn't be much more direct then that. He was silent for a moment, and she saw his eyes darting back and forth, something he only did when he was running over a situation in his mind, trying to make a decision. Trying to see the pitfalls the in possible paths laid out before him. Finally, he turned to her and bowed slightly, offering his hand.

And so they danced. He was a very fluid dancer, even if he was a bit tense. Hermione enjoyed herself despite the silence that marked the first few minutes of their dance.

"Why," he began suddenly, looking at her so intently that she was sure he was using Legilimency, "did you give me that book?"

"Because it was your birthday," she explained simply. "It is customary to give people gifts on their birthday."

"Most would have overlooked that the study of potions was not my field of choice," he said finally, "I thank you Miss Granger."

"Hermione," she prompted softly, causing him to miss a step, "I would like it very much, if you were to call me Hermione."

He eyed her intently for a moment, and then nodded marginally.

"Hermione. You may call me Severus."

"Well, it's a start," observed Remus. "Now how long do you think it will take them to tell each other how they feel?

"At least another four years," Madam Hooch predicted with a snort.

"Within the year," Minerva said confidently. "Hermione is a Gryffindor after all."

"Albus?" Remus asked. "What about you?"

"I believe you'll find they just have," Albus Dumbledore responded, a pleased look in his eyes.

Lupin glanced back at the dancing couple with a frown and the headmaster chuckled, patting the younger man on the back.

"Sometimes my boy, we say the most important things without saying anything at all."

* * *

Author's Note: 

Reviews Love. Hope you all enjoyed.


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